Two Steps Forward
by Trinity Everett
Summary: On the anniversary of their kiss, Beckett takes a step to show Castle where she hopes they're going. A Season 4 AU two-shot. Now Complete for CastleFanficMonday: Tuesday Edition.
1. Chapter 1

_This was originally posted on my tumblr. My apologies for not posting it here sooner!_

Anonymous asked: Prompt because your stories are awesome! S4 Beckett knows how much Castle is in to anniversaries of any sort and she is trying to make him see she's ready for "them", so she wants to surprise him somehow on the upcoming one year anniversary of their undercover kiss that they never talk about even though she knows the exact night it happened one year prior

 **Two Steps Forward**

 **Set after 4x13**

* * *

It takes her eight steps to get to the window of Burke's office and back to her chair. No matter what shoes she wears, heels, flats, or none at all, it always takes exactly four steps to the windowsill and four steps back.

Except today. Today she's fidgety, restless, and her normal direct path is anything but, taking her behind her chair instead of around, and over to the bookcases that remind her so much of Castle's home. Her feet guide her on the own accord, she just follows.

"What's on your mind, Kate?"

Burke's question stops her mid-stride, three quarters of the way back to her seat.

"I," she starts, swiping her thumb over the cardboard sleeve of her overpriced - but necessary - coffee cup. "Last year we kissed. Castle and I, we kissed last year."

The words spill from her lips, fluttering onto the carpet at her therapist's feet.

"You did?" Burke asks after a moment, teasing out her thought process, ever patient with her.

Giving him a short nod, she turns away, reversing her path back to the window. "It was to save the boys' lives," she qualifies, as if that makes any difference to how Castle's hands had felt in her hair, how his groan had reverberated through her skin, how the taste of him had been on her tongue for weeks afterward.

"I see. But it meant more than that, I take it?"

Damn, she had walked right into that one, hadn't she?

"Yes. But it was complicated."

A part of her wonders if he keeps a tally of how many times she says that. It's _complicated_. Like life for the rest of the world is blissful and easy, never without roadblocks or confusion.

"How was it complicated? Walk me through what you're thinking, Kate."

Her shoulders sag. "I was with someone else. I wasn't ready. And Castle and I, we never talked about it."

Save for the night he tried. The night he tried to remind her of _all_ the things they don't talk about.

The night she kicked him out, only to have him come back and save her life again.

"So what has it at the front of your mind today?"

"It's been a year, almost. Almost exactly a year," she muses.

Burke's eyebrow lifts, but he waits for the rest of her thought to form.

"I just… I should show him that it meant something. Shouldn't I?"

The doctor's head tilts. "It's important to show the people we care about that they're important to us, yes, but it shouldn't be something you feel obligated to do, Kate."

She slumps, pressing her palm to her forehead. "No, I know. I just - he loves that sort of thing. Random anniversaries, totally off the wall holidays. Last year, he made us celebrate Lost Sock Memorial Day."

Burke's lips lift. Yeah, she would give him that, it was funny.

"I think it would mean a lot if I did _something_ , that's all," she adds, bringing the conversation back to the dilemma at hand. "Something to acknowledge that it happened and I haven't forgotten."

Her therapist nods once more. "Because of your shooting."

"No. Not the shooting," she argues, dropping back into her chair. "Not just my shooting."

Because her partner _loves_ her. Because her partner has made everything about _her_ for the last year - her mom's case, her quest for justice, her need for space - and she may finally be ready to give something back.

Even if it means making up an anniversary to celebrate with him.

* * *

Her hands actually shake as she sets up everything on her desk.

Not that _everything_ is much of anything, really. Gates is in the office for the day and the boys are there, too, ready to pounce on the slightest hint that something is different. But she does enough that Castle will notice; there's a pile of Hershey's Kisses and a mug of coffee that pales in comparison to what he makes for her near the edge of the desk, and it's obviously for the man who occupies the chair beside hers.

Then there is the yellow post-it underneath the mug, the scribbled invitation to have dinner tonight. She had written and rewritten it half a dozen times, crumpling each attempt and burying it at the bottom of the waste bin under her desk, before forcing herself to suck it up and stick with the simple request instead of anything more robust.

Yeah, she's not ridiculous at all.

It occurs to her after the steam from Castle's coffee begins to dissipate that it is possible she won't even see him today. It's paperwork day, wrapping up the reports from the Francisco Pilar case, and her partner is still staunchly avoidant of all the more tedious aspects of police work.

The thought alone is enough to drag her shoulders down.

She could text, could ask him to come in anyway, but that isn't what they do. It isn't what _she_ does. She lets him play cop when it's cool and do his own thing when it's not; she does not call him and ask him to come and keep her company.

Maybe she should.

That is what today is about, right?

Grabbing her phone, she checks for other messages before pulling up their last conversation. A chuckle escapes without her permission; as of last night, he was still pouting about Alexis putting the kibosh on getting a dog.

Maybe one day a pet will make more sense for them. Both of them.

"Is this for me?"

Her phone clatters to her desk as her head whips upward. He - how is he already here?

"Castle, hey." She gives herself a mental pat on the back for how steady her voice sounds, in spite of her surprise.

"Hey," he greets, offering her a soft smile, one that beckons her fingers to cup his face and trace the laugh lines around his eyes. "Brought you yours."

And one for himself, she notes, but he abandons that in favor of curling his broad hands around her offering.

"Thanks," she breathes, focusing on lifting the coffee to her lips instead of watching him take his first sip.

She notices him falter, but his smile never fades. If anything, it grows.

"Thanks, Beckett."

Her cheeks heat at the sincerity in his words. Her coffee isn't nearly as good as his, and they both know it, but still his gratitude comes without hesitation.

"So," he starts, clearing his throat. "What do we have today?"

"Your favorite." She taps a file, quirking a smile at his sigh. "Paperwork."

She expects him to turn around and make some excuse for why he needs to leave, but instead he slides into his chair at her side and taps the desk.

"Give me something to do?"

The post-it disappears halfway through the day, sometime between the trips to the coffee machine, and for a moment her heart seizes at the possibility that it could be stuck to one of the files she had deposited on Gates's desk an hour earlier. It's only when he returns and she spies the yellow sticky note in her partner's jacket pocket that she relaxes.

He shares the pile of candy with her, nudging one of the Kisses her way every so often and nodding in approval when she slips the chocolate from the aluminum foil. The treat melts on her tongue, a delightful reward for her taste buds, and she watches her partner hum his appreciation for his own Kiss.

She can't help but wonder what it would be like to taste the chocolate from his lips instead.

"You hungry?" he asks after the silence has gone on a little too long.

"Sure. You buying?"

His eyes crinkle once more. "Of course. What am I getting? Nothing that'll spoil your appetite for dinner, I hope?"

It's the first time he has even hinted at her invitation and, though her breath stutters, she plays along. "Oh, I think I can make room, whatever you get."

Her partner licks his lips. "In that case, I will be back. I guess I should get enough to share, too?"

Beckett casts a glance in Ryan and Esposito's direction. "Probably for the best."

They're both looking a little cantankerous with hunger. It wouldn't really be fair to eat in front of them.

Castle hums, giving her a lopsided smile. "But, just for the record, they're not invited to dinner, right?"

Anticipation wells in her belly, quiet flutters of hope that threaten to expand and overtake her sense. No, Ryan and Espo are not invited to the dinner - the quiet, companionable, and yes, _romantic_ dinner - she has planned.

Her head shakes. "No, Castle. It's a small guest list."

"Perfect," he rumbles, rapping his knuckles on her desk. "I'll be back."

It takes her all of five minutes to spot the sticky note once he's gone. Somehow, Castle managed to return it to her desk without her noticing, placing it underneath the remaining two chocolates, and she peels the note away from the surface with care. Knowing her partner, he will probably want to keep it at the end of the day and she won't be the one to rip or wrinkle it.

Ignoring the rest of the bullpen for a moment, her fingers trace the excited blocks of his letters, his answer, his confirmation that he _gets_ it, what all this means.

 _I can't wait._

* * *

 _A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! Although this was originally a oneshot, I have a second chapter coming soon (Tuesday)!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Happy Castle Fanfic Monday - Tuesday Edition! Enjoy!_

 **Two Steps Forward: Making the Leap**

* * *

All day long, her heart flutters, anticipating the moment her shift ends and she's able to make good on her invitation of dinner. Her reservations are for seven; it means they have a couple of hours to kill between work and dinner, but she had wanted to give herself enough time to go home and change into something appropriate, something date-like. Castle has seen her at her worst - more often and more recently than she would like - and tonight she wants him to see her at her best.

So of course things start to go sideways around four-fifteen. They don't catch a new case, but they get a hit on an older open case, and Gates orders them – her – to stay until she knows whether it's a false alarm or a good tip.

As the clock ticks past five and onward to six, then six-thirty, her heart sinks. They aren't going to make it. She's not going to be able to go home and change into the soft blue dress she's been envisioning wearing for this since the idea had come to her. They aren't going to make their reservation; the place is halfway across town and there's no way she'll be finished in time to even drive there at breakneck speeds.

"I'm sorry, Castle," she murmurs, looking up as he sits once more. He's returned with full coffee mugs for them both, but instead of being happy for the pick me up, it just serves as a reminder to her that they're not getting out of here anytime soon.

Her partner cocks his head. "For what?"

Beckett gestures around, pointing out the metal desks and the still-bustling bullpen. "Plans… falling through?"

"It's not your fault. Unless you were that desperate to get out of a date with me, in which case, shame shame, Beckett."

Her cheeks burn. A _date_. They're trying to go on a _date_. If only the universe would just cooperate. "Yes, Castle, I was so desperate to get out of something I invited you to just a few hours ago, I faked new information for an old case. Sounds exactly like me."

"Well, when you put it that way…" He grins, leaning back in his chair. "I mean it, though. You don't have to apologize because something came up."

Maybe not, but dinner – the whole damn day - is supposed to mean something. She's supposed to be showing him she's ready, solved case or no, and here they are being waylaid by another case.

"I know, I just… plans."

Castle nods, cocking his head. "What would you like? We'll call the restaurant and I'll go pick up our order. We can eat in the conference room while we go over everything again."

Oh, he's sweet. He's so ridiculously sweet to offer, but they both know her disappointment isn't about the food they'd been intending to try.

Kate shakes her head, lowering her voice to avoid being overheard. "Why don't we order something closer tonight and save the restaurant for another time?"

Castle brightens at that, at the knowledge that there will be another time for them to have that dinner.

"In that case, might I suggest another of our staples?"

She nods, stopping him with a hand on his wrist before he can reach for his phone. "Sounds good, but I'll call. This is my treat."

His pulse jumps under her fingers, but her partner simply hums, leaving his phone – and her hand – where it is. "By all means, Kate, treat me."

* * *

At just after ten, she closes the last of the files and scrapes a hand through her hair, a grunt spilling from her lips. Frustration simmers in her blood; they found nothing to corroborate the tip they'd received, which means their evening has been a complete bust. They're no closer to finding their killer than they were a day ago.

"Come on, Castle," she murmurs finally, exiting her email and sending her computer to standby for the night. "Let's get out of here."

"Heading home?" he asks, slipping her coat from the back of her chair and holding it out for her the moment he gets to his feet. He's trying for nonchalance, but the fumble of his fingers gives him away.

It would be easy to say yes, to call it a day and try this entire thing again another day, but no. She won't.

"We could take a walk?" she suggests instead, watching startled delight spread across his features. He had been expecting her to take the easy way out, no doubt. "It's not too cold, I think."

"I'd love to," he answers without hesitation, offering his arm. "Shall we?"

At first, they stroll in silence, letting the noise of the city do the talking for them. It's comfortable, calming, just to be there with him. It solidifies her confidence that they can be more than a spark on a dark night that's brilliant but ultimately fleeting.

They really can work. They already do.

"Kate," he rumbles a few blocks later, tilting his face toward hers. Her steps falter at the tenderness in his gaze, the hope in the cobalt depths of his eyes. "Thanks."

"For what?" she asks, blinking in surprise. He's thanking her? Why?

"Today."

"Making you skip a nice dinner to do paperwork?" she teases, forcing the words past the squeeze of her throat.

Her partner shakes his head.

"Trust me, I've had worse evenings."

Her cheeks heat at the sincerity in his voice. The promise in his words. He really means that.

She clears her throat, pulling a deep breath into her lungs. "Well, it's nice to rank higher than the night you almost burned your face off trying to fry a turkey."

Castle laughs, bumping her shoulder with his. "As if there was any competition there."

She snickers, allowing herself to give in, to list into his side and borrow his warmth. "Hmm, wait and see, you might still come home with only one eyebrow."

"Why, Detective Beckett, what are you going to do to me?"

Standing this close to him, there's no disguising the shiver that travels down her spine at the thought of all the things she wants to do to him.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she manages, lifting her chin to offer what she hopes to be a smirk.

"Desperately," he says, catching her hip with a gentle hand. Her breath hitches at the care in the touch, the assurance.

Teasing lilt to his voice or not, he really means that, too.

Courage surges in her chest; they can do this. _She_ can do this.

"Okay," she says, lifting her hand to touch his collar, to brush her knuckles against the column of his throat. He swallows hard, but doesn't speak. In fact, he barely moves, as if he's afraid to break the spell they're falling under.

"Last year," she starts, slipping her fingers into his hair, the silky strands caressing her skin. This time her partner's the one who shivers, who leans into her. "We never talked about last year."

Castle gives a slow nod, flexing his fingers on her hip. "No, we didn't. We haven't talked about a lot of things."

There's no accusation there, only a statement of fact. They aren't good at talking. Fighting, dancing a waltz around the issues and the things they really want from one another, yes, but not talking.

His eyes flutter shut as her thumb slips over the shell of his ear, only to pop back open at the gentle press of her mouth to his. The promise she's offering him.

"Kate-"

"Let's talk now," she whispers, painting his lips with her breath, her hope. She lists into him, brushing her nose against his. "Late, I know. Really late. But better late than never, right? Let's talk now, Rick."

His mouth lands hard against hers, stealing her words from her lips with a gentle swipe of his tongue. Soft fingers comb through her hair, holding her close, steadying her as her knees wobble, weakening with want.

"I'd like that," he says, thumbing the back of her head as they catch their breath. "Or you could take me home and show me instead."

He's trying to play it cool, but she hears the rough catch to his voice, the desire that bleeds into each and every word. The same desire that surges through her limbs, pumps beneath her skin.

A year ago he kissed her for the first time, and while they pretended nothing had happened, it had served to loosen more of the bricks in the wall she had built inside after her mother died. A year later, she had planned an entire night to show them both that she's been putting in the work, that she's dismantling the barriers between them, only to have him crash through and join her on the other side without her realizing.

And now they have their chance. She has her chance. She can take him home and tell him everything, show him everything.

Heart beating wildly in her chest, she takes his hand and steps over the rubble of her wall to do just that.

(They do talk eventually, as their blood sings and sweat cools on their bodies, but they both know the words are secondary to the extraordinary leap they've just made.)

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope part two lived up to expectations! And Happy Birthday, Andrea. Thank you for prompting this story from the beginning!_


End file.
